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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021134">The Final Journey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios'>Porphyrios</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aging, Grief/Mourning, Loving Marriage, M/M, Marriage, Post-War of the Ring, Suicidal Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,723</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28021134</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin and Bilbo had returned to the Shire after their adventures.  Dain ruled in the mountain, and Thorin was content to be a simple smith.  But as Bilbo aged without aging and the war of the Ring began to take shape around them, his and Bilbo's marriage would be tested in ways that nobody could predict.</p><p>This is essentially my best guess as to how Bilbo's story in the LotR would have gone if he and Thorin were married, told from Thorin's POV.</p><p>Also, a big shoutout to @Tamloid for acting as a beta and sounding board for this!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Final Journey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Standing at the harbor, looking at the sleek grey ships before him, Thorin felt tired.  More tired, in truth, than he ever remembered feeling.  Long ago, he had been a king.  He remembered being a king; sometimes all too well, as when he woke shouting in the middle of the night, Bilbo's silvery curls beside him on the pillow in Rivendell.  He had been tired when the dragon destroyed his home, and he was forced out into the world to survive.  He had been tired when he finally led the shattered remnants of his folk to the Blue Mountains, with a grandfather dead and a father gone wandering to none-knew-where.  He had been tired when he was imprisoned by Thranduil in the same dungeons dwarves had built him and left there to rot.  He had been tired, oh so tired, when he had lain near death and been told of the death of his nephews... tired unto death himself.  If it were not for the hobbit who stood beside him now, he would not have managed to somehow cling to life.  But never before had he felt like this. Sighing deeply, he led Bilbo towards the elves and wizard who stood waiting by the docks.</p><p>=</p><p>The whole coil had begun when they left the Shire.  Truly, it had begun long before that, when they had gone on their quest together, when Bilbo had come out of the deep places below the mountains with a small golden ring.  A tiny thing, for all the magic and malice it was eventually revealed to hold. The ring's gift of invisibility had helped Bilbo on their journey but curiously enough the ring also seemed to keep him from aging.  Sixty years had passed since Bilbo had left Erebor with its former king, sixty years in which Thorin had aged, hair growing white and eyes lightening as the line of Durin did, but Bilbo... Bilbo remained unchanged, the same beautiful, golden hobbit he had always been.  The dwarf was under no illusions that this process was natural; after sixty years of life in the Shire, he had seen the lifespan of hobbits for himself.  Only Bilbo seemed immune to the passage of time, and Thorin was no fool; it could only be the ring.  For this reason, the ring seemed a gift of Mahal. </p><p>Where the trouble properly started was when Thorin faced off with the wizard Tharkûn.  Bilbo knew him as Gandalf, but regardless of his name he was the same meddlesome, obstinate creature that Thorin had always known.  They ended up arguing over that same ring in the parlor of a smial he had come to consider his own.  Both Thorin and Bilbo had wanted to leave Frodo the smial as a coming-of-age gift. They had spoken of it often and they both desired to go and travel again one last time (though they knew they would miss the boy terribly). He was their son in all but blood; they had raised him for years after his parents' death, and if Frodo ever thought it odd that he had a dwarf for a stepfather he gave no indication of it. Thorin loved him as he had loved his lost nephews, and many a young hobbit who thought to try his hand at bullying young Frodo realized their mistake when confronted with an enormous, fuming Thorin. At Bilbo's and Frodo's shared birthday, when the boy finally came of age, they hosted one of the largest parties the Shire had seen in ages and told Frodo of their bequest to him with tears all around.</p><p>Later that night, after the farewell party, they returned back inside to get their traveling packs only to find the wizard waiting. When Gandalf asked what had become of the envelope containing the deed to Bag End, the ring, and a note from Thorin wishing Frodo well, Bilbo said at first that he had left it on the mantel but found it instead stuffed in his breast pocket.  At the time, Bilbo's response was "Well, no!  Here it is in my pocket!  Isn't that odd now?  Yet after all, why not?  Well, and why shouldn't it stay there?" His second thoughts were news to Thorin, but he supported his husband regardless, and be damned to meddling wizards.</p><p>Gandalf peered at Bilbo, eyes darkening.  "I think, Bilbo, I should leave it behind.  Don't you want to?"  Bilbo's face was a portrait of struggle, and Thorin stepped forward to put an arm around the hobbit, glaring as he did so at the wizard he had grudgingly learned to tolerate but never trust.  He disliked Tharkûn's easy assumption that he knew better than everyone else.  Still, he waited to hear his husband's answer before he lost his temper properly; sixty years of marriage had taught him that much, at least.</p><p>"Well, yes- and no.  Now it comes to it, I don't like parting with it at all, I may say.  And I don't really see why I should.  Why do you want me to?"  Bilbo's eyes narrowed as he glared suspiciously at the wizard.  Thorin's eyebrows went up a bit in surprise, but he nodded.  That was clear enough, but Bilbo wasn't finished.  "You are always badgering me about my ring; but you have never bothered me about the other things that I got on my journey."  Gandalf drew himself up importantly.</p><p>"No, but I had to badger you," said Gandalf. "I wanted the truth. It was important. Magic rings are - well, magical; they are rare and curious. I was professionally interested in your ring, you may say, and I still am." Ah, Thorin thought. The truth at last. Surprising that the wizard would confess it. "I should like to know where it is, if you go wandering again. Also I think you have had it quite long enough. You won't need it any more, Bilbo, unless I am quite mistaken." Gandalf's eyes twinkled merrily and he smiled, kind and affable as he always took pains to appear, and Thorin thought Bilbo was deceived but was pleasantly surprised by his husband's response.</p><p>"You may indeed be mistaken," Bilbo said shortly. "And what shall I do if I have need of it once it is gone? Perhaps I should let Thorin carry it for me, if you feel it too much for me. It has no effect on him, you know; he doesn't even become invisible if he wears it. He can bear it for me in case I need it again." The dwarf made a sour face. He remembered the greasy feel of it from the time he had put it on after asking Bilbo to try it. Indeed, he remembered all of it: the creeping insidious call of the gold in his head rising to a roar, the cold, emotionless greed leaching the color out of the world like when the dragon-sickness had taken him back in Erebor, how quickly he had snatched it off his finger once he realized what was happening. He had given it back after only a few days, the whispering of the gold-fever from the ring being too much for him to tolerate, even when it was only in his pocket instead of on his finger. Gandalf's kindly mask cracked for the first time that evening as he glared at them, from Bilbo to Thorin and back again.</p><p>"You gave the ring to <i>him</i>? Have you no sense at all?  Why would you do such a thing, Bilbo Baggins?" Gandalf asked harshly but the dwarf ignored him; he had heard what he needed to hear.  He knew his husband's mind now, and that was good enough for him. He sneered at Gandalf's question and turned to his husband.</p><p>"He spoke the truth earlier, you know. The ring is magic, and wizards think they own all magics," Thorin said with a glance towards the wizard, pulling Bilbo a bit closer with the arm still stretched around the hobbit's shoulders.  "He is jealous of you for having it, and if he cannot have it for himself he will see it sent where he wishes, as he wishes, that he might be its guide if not truly its owner.  My father warned me of such; we dwarves know this tendency of wizards well.  It is why we are cautious in what we tell them."  In his memory Thorin could still see Thrain's face from long ago, leaning in, whispering the words of warning and explanation as their troupe of dwarven refugees skulked slowly past the thrusting black pillar of Orthanc, home of the wizard Saruman.  Such were the lessons of an heir to a dwarven throne, even a fallen one.  Bilbo leaned back against Thorin for support, but the dwarf refused to be distracted.  A thwarted wizard was a dangerous foe indeed; Thrain had warned him of that as well and he had seen it for himself during their travels.  He wasted a swift moment wishing for Orcrist which hung over the mantel in their bedroom, before forcing himself to pay attention.</p><p>"Thorin Oakenshield, you are as obstreperous as ever, and impertinent to boot," Gandalf said impatiently, though his eyes flashed with irritation.  "This is nothing to do with you, or with the curious prejudices of dwarves!  I have said this before, and I will say it again.  This ring is magical, yes, but it is also dangerous.  I do not know how dangerous, but I do know this: no ring of power may be borne without a price.  I have urged Bilbo to leave it for Frodo out of love for Bilbo himself, not out of some twisted sense of self-importance.  Do not meddle in what you do not understand."  Bilbo made a huff of offense on Thorin's behalf, but the dwarf was somewhat pleased.  Good, he thought grimly, let Bilbo see what these wizards are truly about.</p><p>"I understand, Tharkûn," Thorin replied, grinning mirthlessly.  "I understand better than you would wish, I doubt not.  Love for Bilbo!  A pretty speech.  You wizards do not love the individuals you know any more than you love the ants beneath your feet.  Bilbo is a toy to you, as am I, as is every person you meet; tools to an end, counters in the great game you play that none but you know the rules of, moving nations and peoples with your advice, accomplishing your goals with whispers and subterfuge in the courts of the powerful."  Gandalf drew himself up angrily but Thorin held up a hand.  "Do not mistake me, I know you wizards oppose the dark things of the world and their masters.  That is your role, and you bear it well.  You seek always to set others against the shadow, and this is helpful to a point.  We dwarves honor you for it, though we would honor you more if you fought your own battles instead of seeking always to make others your cats-paws.  But proper love you have not.  Your kind have only the love of a farmer seeing a blossom thrive where he planted it, not a true regard for another.  Did that same blossom grow elsewhere, you would root it out like a weed with neither mercy nor malice, just another thing to be done.  Do not pretend otherwise.  Such deceits are unbecoming."  Gandalf swelled with rage and seemed to grow taller, the shadows growing in the room, but Thorin stood solid like a mountain and unafraid.  Even so, Bilbo was shaking, and Thorin was suddenly furious with the wizard for frightening his husband.  Leaning forward, he sneered "This ring, whatever it may be, came to my husband by chance, but to him it came, not you.  It is his, whether you like it or not.  If he wishes to give it, give it he shall.  If he wishes to keep it, none shall take it from him while I draw breath.  Be told, I..."  Bilbo raised his hand and Thorin stopped speaking.</p><p>"Thorin," the hobbit turned with a gentle look, kissing the dwarf on the cheek and cupping his face with his upraised hand, "dear Thorin, just when I think it is impossible to love you more, you prove me wrong.  Thank you for your fierceness and for supporting me.”  Bilbo sighed deeply, shrinking into himself despite the fortifying arm across his shoulders.  “Even so... my mind resists it, but my heart knows Gandalf is correct."  Gandalf seemed to withdraw, becoming once again just a tall, stooped man in grey, but he did not smile.  Instead he nodded, seeming pained (though Thorin noticed the wizard's eyes never strayed to him, staying fixed on Bilbo).  "The ring is too much to bear, and it grows heavier upon me.  We've talked about this."  Thorin sighed and nodded; they had.  When Bilbo compared it to the gold sickness that had seized Thorin in Erebor he had wept, and felt no shame for doing so.  He had experienced the ring’s effects for himself.  He hoped Dain and his son proved stronger than he had been; indeed, it seemed so already.  Bilbo turned back to the wizard.  "Gandalf, it makes me feel... queer.  Thin and stretched, like butter spread across too much bread.  Does that make sense?  Sometimes I feel as though it was an eye of fire, watching me, and I'm afraid... Afraid..." the hobbit's voice trailed off and Thorin wrapped his husband in his arms, pressing his lips into the bronze curls on the back of his husband's head.  Bilbo jumped at first, but then turned and smiled up at him, and for a moment his face shone like a flame of devotion.  "Yes, I must.  I will just set it..." he stretched out to put the envelope on the mantel, but it fell to the floor.  Gandalf reached for it, but Thorin crouched quick as a thought and snatched it up, setting it in front of the dwarven clock he had given his husband for their fifth anniversary.  "Thank you, love," Bilbo said.  "I feel lighter already."</p><p>Gandalf nodded, glancing from the envelope on the mantel to the two of them where they stood.  "A wise choice.  The wisest, I should say.  The love the two of you bear for each other is a stronger force than you know.  Cherish it."  The wizard beetled his brows a bit at Thorin, who looked at him with a flat expression, clearly uncaring.  "And despite what your husband thinks he knows of me, I understand more of love than the dwarves might suspect."  And with that they went on to speak of other things.  No mention was made of their disagreement, but Thorin was sure the wizard never forgot it.</p><p>Once they left the Shire Thorin had wandered with Bilbo for seven years, staying in correspondence with Frodo through his willingness to trade on the close relations of his bloodline with the ravens. He and Bilbo went first to the Blue Mountains to see his sister Dis, then gradually made their way to Erebor to visit their old friends for five years (though Thorin resisted all attempts by Dain to act in even a single official role).  Staying in the reborn mountain was lovely in a way, but even so the memories there were too thick.  Thorin lost track of how many times Bilbo had to come find him in the catacombs where he sat alone in front of the twin tombs that held his nephews.  Sadness choked him there, but he could not stay away.  Finally they left Erebor, returning to the west by way of Beorn's house and eventually arriving in Rivendell.  Bilbo had fallen in love with it during their first visit, and so in Rivendell they had stayed.</p><p>During their travels, Thorin had been shocked by the speed at which Bilbo aged.  He seemed to age three years for every one that went past.  By the time they reached Erebor, he was going grey; his hair was fully white by the time they reached Rivendell.  The hobbit had laughed when his hair turned white and said that now he and Thorin were a matched set, but the dwarf could tell that it bothered Bilbo more than he ever admitted.  He began telling Bilbo daily how good he looked, bringing him flowers and foods from the kitchens, drawing on sixty years of experience in the Shire to tell his husband every day how much he was loved in ways that a hobbit would understand.  It helped.  Mostly.  Thorin still caught his husband avoiding his reflection in mirrors or (even worse) looking into them and sighing. </p><p>Thorin was also shocked during this period to discover that Elrond was capable of being fairly good company (for an elf).  He and Bilbo had been in Rivendell almost six months when the hobbit found a book in the library written in Khuzdul.  He innocently took it to his husband, asking what the book was and if it was interesting.  Thorin had been furious to find that it was a chronicle of the reign of Durin III from the scriptorium of Khazad-Dûm, and the idea of an elf, any elf, possessing such a treasure of dwarven history went through him like a bolt of lightning.  Without another word to his husband, he stormed out of their shared rooms, abandoning a horrified Bilbo to confront a bemused Elrond. The lord of Rivendell, far from apologizing, proceeded to shock Thorin speechless by addressing him in flawless (though archaic) Khuzdul and informing him that the book had been a gift of Frarin II Goldenbeard, Durin III's grandson, and had been given in Khazad-Dûm itself at Frarin’s fiftieth anniversary jubilee.  When Bilbo came panting in holding his side and half-expecting to find bloody combat, he was flabbergasted to see Thorin interrogating a visibly amused Elrond about what life was like in Khazad-Dûm in the courts of his ancestors.  It took three days for Bilbo to speak to the dwarf again but the regular application of lemon tarts and Elven raspberry cordial finally worked.  If Thorin hadn't known how to apologize like a hobbit, he shuddered to think how long it might have taken.  Even so, once he began to properly chat with Elrond, he was forced to (grudgingly) admit that the elf wasn't the worst company.  His final approval came one day when Elrond, as part of a conversation about the elven kingdoms, referred to Thranduil as "provincial and crass".  From that point forward, Thorin admitted that perhaps he had been wrong about <i>some</i> elves.</p><p>The change in his attitudes was gradual but continued apace. The greatest shift came several years after they settled in Rivendell.  Since Bilbo was always immersed in the library and his writings, out of sheer boredom Thorin took up working in the smithies of Rivendell. Most of the elves had little interest in metalwork, so Thorin often had the forges to himself. He amused himself by making gifts for Bilbo at first, but finally began supplying anything metal needed by the kitchens or stables, shoeing horses, making cookware and hinges, repairing broken items and such smithwork. After a few years two brothers from Lorien named Cuerinwe and Cuerinthe appeared one morning and announced that they had missed working with the dwarves from Khazad-Dum since they had been forced from Eregion. Their Khuzdul was perfect, their manners with him were far more properly dwarven than elvish, and in spite of himself Thorin began to think of them as actual friends. Soon he and Bilbo began socializing with them away from the forge, and they were kind and friendly to the hobbit as well. The only odd thing about them was that, from the first morning they appeared, they called Thorin 'Durin'. For his part, he called them 'beardless dwarves', which occasioned much amusement from Elrond until the two reproached the Lord of Rivendell in flawless Khuzdul, being politely scathing exactly as dwarves would. Thorin was so proud of them he ignored the grins they exchanged with Glorfindel and others afterwards. He was less sanguine with their nickname for him, but despite his repeated attempts to protest they insisted that with his white hair, smith's build and long beard that he was the very image of his ancestor. Since, they said, they had met Durin in three of his incarnations, they knew better than almost anyone else alive what Durin was like and Thorin could be his twin, both in appearance and in manner of acting. Bilbo was so amused he began calling Thorin 'Durin' as well, and the nickname stuck. In spite of himself, he was complimented by their insistence, though he hardly gave credence to the idea that he resembled his great ancestor so closely.</p><p>Bilbo continued to age rapidly and Thorin's concern grew apace. Bilbo's face was deeply lined now, though he still got around as well as a hobbit of eighty or so. Even so, his hips began hurting, his knees were tricky, and despite the fact that he dearly loved the walking stick Thorin had carved him and inlaid with silver and gems, he detested his dependence on it. Rumors of Frodo’s imminent arrival cheered them, but when Frodo finally appeared being carried by Glorfindel in a state near death, both Thorin and Bilbo were horrified.  They both hovered by his bedside, ignoring all attempts to get them to leave, even sitting present (though well out of the way) for Elrond's healing sessions. Sam had loudly protested, asking why they got to stay when he did not, but Thorin's bellowed "Because he is our child!" sent him away forthwith. Even the elves had no answer for that.</p><p>"This is all because of my ring," Bilbo murmured to Thorin where they sat watching Frodo sleep. The old hobbit's face was a mask of guilt. "I did this to him, Thorin."</p><p>"No, <i>ghivashel</i>," the dwarf replied softly. "The Enemy did this to him. You cannot blame yourself, down that road lies madness." He stroked the white curls of the old hobbit sitting beside him, feeling beaten down by the day.</p><p>"You don't understand..." Bilbo began in a tetchy voice, but Thorin pulled back and glared at him.</p><p>"I understand all too well, Bilbo. Did I kill my nephews? They died because of me. If I had not brought them with me, if I had not led them out to war..." Bilbo's spluttered denial was loud in the quiet room and Thorin nodded grimly. "Exactly. You yourself taught me this. They died because of Azog, because of a pointless war with orcs that I didn't cause, and because there was no other way things could be. No more did you cause Frodo to be wounded than I killed Fili and Kili. Be strong for him, <i>ghivashel</i>, and do not blame yourself." Bilbo growled wordlessly but finally settled himself against Thorin's side like a bird with ruffled feathers, twitching his coat into a more comfortable configuration.</p><p>"If I had known the dwarf I married would throw my own words back in my face..." he grumbled and Thorin grinned at him fondly, wondering how the sentence would end, but the old hobbit simply trailed off with a sharp look. Such looks were as good as kisses after so many years, and the dwarf was content. "He's so still," Bilbo whispered after a few minutes of silence. "Thorin, if..."</p><p>"Have faith in Elrond. In healing, at least, the elves of this place cannot be excelled." Thorin laughed in his mind to think of his reaction if he had been told a century ago that he would speak such words. Even so, they were true, and even more, they were what Bilbo needed to hear. Their vigil continued for days, days in which Thorin had to remind Bilbo to eat (and occasionally bring him food, though he would have previously sworn that a hobbit forgetting to eat was as implausible as a dwarf forgetting to grow a beard). His husband was beside himself with worry, insisting against all logic that he was somehow to blame, and the dwarf had his work cut out for him to keep Bilbo from harming himself with his refusal to leave and sleep or eat. He tried to ignore how Bilbo's eyes kept straying to the ring on its chain where it hung on Frodo's chest.  The day of Frodo’s awakening was the best day either of them had had in ages.</p><p>Seeing Gloin and Gimli again was an unexpected gift. They came with Buri and Nar from Erebor to discuss the fate of the ring. He and Bilbo visited with their friends for several nights, and Thorin introduced them to the Noldori brothers on the second night. Gloin and Gimli both spit out their ale at hearing Thorin called ‘Durin’, but by the end of the evening the ale was flowing freely and everyone was enjoying themselves except Bilbo. The hobbit had been in a strange mood since Frodo's arrival. He crept off at one point with Frodo and something happened... all the dwarf knew was that his husband was saddened by whatever had passed, though it was never discussed, and their farewells to Frodo and his companions were impacted by the events of that afternoon. After the fellowship departed, Bilbo sank into a deep depression. Gone were the days when the hobbit would read and argue in the library; no longer did he cook and fuss in the kitchens, or clean their shared rooms, or even speak with the elves. Instead Bilbo spent days in bed, staring at the wall, refusing to speak to anyone, and when Thorin would lie next to him and hold him, he would cry silently. It made Thorin's very heart ache within his chest. When he finally recovered, beginning again to take an interest in daily things, the dwarf hoped against hope that things were improving.</p><p>There could be no doubt as to when the ring was destroyed. In the middle of the night, his husband shot upright in bed, screaming. Thorin calmed him, petting and soothing him to return to sleep but the hobbit merely hunched over, weeping as though his heart had broken. Bilbo was never the same after that. Word came from Gondor and Lorien that the ring had been cast down, that Frodo had miraculously been saved, and he and Bilbo rejoiced, but... after that, the hobbit aged even more rapidly, seeming to fade day by day. His mind began to wander, and he became more forgetful, losing track of who was in the room with him or where he was, even losing his thread of thought from one sentence to the next. </p><p>One night as they prepared for bed, they had been discussing the dinner that the cooks had prepared when Bilbo fell silent for a moment, then looked up miserably. "Thorin..."</p><p>"I am here, <i>ghivashel</i>," the dwarf replied tenderly, taking and holding Bilbo's frail hands. The cup of tea Thorin had prepared for him steamed on the bedside table, ignored as Bilbo struggled to sit, clutching the dwarf's hands tightly.</p><p>"Thorin... Thorin... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." Bilbo's distraught look made the dwarf feel powerless, a feeling he had hated his entire life, but he let none of his discomfort show. "Thorin," Bilbo finally said, "I... I must confess something. I haven't been... I haven't been honest with you." Taking a deep breath, the dwarf smiled as best he could.</p><p>"Whatever you have done, I'm sure it will be fine. But tell me, if you wish," he murmured, stroking the gnarled old hands. Bilbo looked down, tears running down his face.</p><p>"Thorin... I took the Arkenstone from you. I didn't mean... I'm sorry, it seemed... I betrayed your trust and I... I..." The hobbit looked up, eyes panicked, and Thorin realized that Bilbo had forgotten where and when he was. The rheumy hazel eyes were looking into a place he hadn't been for decades, and Thorin hated to think how he had acted the first time this event had come to light.</p><p>"I forgive you, <i>ghivashel</i>," he replied sadly, voice catching. "You are more important to me than any jewel. All is forgiven, Bilbo. We will work through this." The old hobbit muttered again and again about how sorry he was, but his eyes never focused. When he finally slept, Thorin slipped away to find Elrond.</p><p>"You must understand, he is old, very old for a hobbit," Elrond said after Thorin had poured out the tale of his husband's recent episode. "Bilbo lived for over sixty years with an item of dark and insidious power. He was amazingly resistant to its lure, but even so... it kept him young, but who knows what other changes it made? Now it is gone, and his mind has been deprived of that power to arrange itself. I fear this upset of Bilbo's may prove lengthy, if indeed he ever recovers. But I will come with you, and see what may be done." And so he did. Even so, Bilbo's mind was prone to wander from that point forward. Thorin was never sure what Bilbo would say or when he would think he was, though the effect was worsened when Bilbo was upset or tired. The hobbit began to sleep more and more, almost unable to stay awake when Frodo passed through Rivendell with the others on his way back to the Shire. On Bilbo’s behalf as well as his own, Thorin told his adopted son how proud he was and complimented him over and over on his achievement, but Frodo simply smiled and looked away.</p><p>It was on that trip, when Bilbo and Thorin were visiting with Frodo, that the dwarf first heard the fateful words from his friends. Cuerinwe pulled Thorin aside from his hobbits, ostensibly to speak of the forge though the dwarf had been but rarely in the smithy for the past few years. "We have heard," the elf said soberly, all joking set aside for once, "we will leave this place. Soon."</p><p>"Leave?" Thorin asked, looking around at the familiar halls. After years here, the once-strange architecture of Rivendell was finally familiar, and looked as it always did. "Leave to where? You and your brother will return to Lorien?" The elf shook his head, eyes sad and distant.</p><p>"Not just we two, but the whole host of the Noldor in Lorien and that of Imladris as well. We will return to the West," Cuerinwe said. "The Enemy is fallen, and even Curunir who men called Saruman has been haled down. Our Lady speaks of returning from these lands to our old home in Aman in the Undying Lands. She, our lord Celeborn, and all the hosts of the elves in Arda will depart, at least those of us who came from there long ago. We worry for you, friend; where will you and your husband go, when this place is empty?"</p><p>"I do not know," Thorin said with concern. "I have heard none of this, and Bilbo is in no fit state to travel. I am old myself, though..." Elvish laughter interrupted him.</p><p>"You are barely a stripling, Durin," his friend said, "you will live for centuries yet, like the one whose face you bear." Thorin smiled a bit at his friend's joke, but after a moment he shook his head solemnly.</p><p>"No, my friend. When Bilbo goes, I will return to the stone. I will not live in a land without my One. Now that I have known what it is to love, I cannot live without it; food will have no savor and sleep will not come for me without my husband there beside me. I will hasten to the Halls of Mahal, and I will beg on bended knee for him to open the door to the One he made for me with his wife. I will not stay here alone." Cuerinwe grimaced, shaking his head.</p><p>"These are grim words, Durin. I had not thought you the sort to have such thoughts. Surely..." But his arguments were met with Thorin's implacable face, and soon enough the elf spoke of other things. </p><p>Only a month later the Lady of Lorien came, and with her the whole host of the Noldor arrayed in flowing robes and riding white horses, speaking of returning to the West. Thorin was shocked when Elrond and Galadriel both presented themselves with Tharkûn at his and Bilbo's chamber to speak with his husband. They hinted strongly that he should leave but the dwarf refused, settling himself like a mountain on the side of the bed and holding Bilbo's hand while they offered his husband a chance to go on into the West as an elf would, by virtue of his role as ring-bearer. Seeing the chance to keep his husband alive, Thorin whispered encouragement until Bilbo agreed.</p><p>When the time to leave came, Bilbo rose from his bed and dressed and it did Thorin's heart good to see his husband up and walking. "Where will you go?" several of the elves asked Thorin.</p><p>"With my husband, as long as he needs me," he would reply, and they would shake their heads and murmur, but Thorin ignored them. He helped Bilbo into the cart which would carry him to the Grey Havens, and climbed into it to sit beside him. Bilbo didn't speak much to him, and the dwarf suspected that his husband wasn't aware of their imminent parting. Still, he was there, a constant helpful presence, fetching and holding Bilbo's cup and plate, helping him get dressed and to enter and leave the cart, cushioning him when the road was bumpy. Cuerinwe and Cuerinthe rode beside the cart, joking with them both intermittently and breaking up the journey.  Even so, all too soon they arrived in the Grey Havens and Thorin helped Bilbo out of the cart for the final time. </p><p>Thankfully, Bilbo's mind seemed focused and he was fully present, exclaiming in joy at the sight of Frodo and Sam and the others. He tottered over to them as Thorin watched him fondly.  Bilbo spoke with Frodo and the other hobbits, both bidding them goodbye and comforting them during the unexpected revelation: Frodo would be going with the elves as well. Behind the hobbits, the hosts of elves passed in serried ranks onto the waiting ships, and each ship filled and then passed out into the harbor, sailing off into the west. </p><p>"It is here," Tharkûn said self-importantly, "that we must leave you, Thorin, son of Thrain."  At the gangplank of the final ship, Elrond and Galadriel stood uncomfortably by, watching as Thorin nodded expressionlessly. "Bilbo will be at peace in the Undying Lands, and in time, you too shall be..." Thorin chuckled bitterly and the wizard stopped, puzzled. The dwarf pulled out his dagger and glanced at it before sheathing it again.</p><p>"I will follow you sooner than you think, Tharkûn. If you will not take me on your boats, so be it. Even so I will not tarry long here without my husband." Elrond looked appalled, but before he could speak Galadriel placed her hand on his arm and gave Thorin a gentle look.</p><p>"We would take you if we could, son of Durin." She smiled wistfully. "We are forbidden to bear forth any but elves; that is the doom set upon us. Bilbo and Frodo can only go with us for their work in bearing the ring of the Enemy to its destruction. But I urge you, set aside your thoughts of death. There is more to your life than..." Thorin laughed in her face, reflecting at her shocked expression that he might be the only one to do so in her long existence.</p><p>"Do not tell me what my life is and is not, Lady. I was born in a palace and driven forth by a dragon. I fought and bled and suffered for almost two hundred years before I met that hobbit you see speaking to our son's friends. I knew no happiness, I felt no joy, my life was nothing but grinding want and need and a desire to better my people's lot, and no help did I receive from any hand, yours included. I almost died to regain my home, and almost died again to hold it. I gave up a throne to follow Bilbo Baggins, and I have regretted nothing. That hobbit's spirit was so kind and gentle as to give me a chance I did not deserve, to take me as his husband even after I treated him poorly, and together we raised Frodo and they have both shown me immeasurable joy. Bilbo Baggins is my One and my heart and I will not be parted from him for long, no matter what you think you know of my life." While he was speaking, Bilbo had made his way back over and took Thorin's hand fondly.</p><p>"Come on, love," he said. "We have one more adventure to face." Bilbo stepped towards the ship but Thorin didn't move, his eyes cutting first to the elves and then the wizard.</p><p>"They will not let me board, Bilbo," he said softly. "You must go on without me, <i>ghivashel</i>. I will be along soon." Seeing the hobbit's face crumple in confusion was horrible.</p><p>"But... I can't..." Bilbo turned to Elrond, then Gandalf. "He has to come!" he turned to Galadriel at last, seeing even Elrond's face become sad. "Lady, why...?"  Galadriel’s eyes were downcast.</p><p>"It is the doom of the Valar, Bilbo. Only elves are permitted to take this path, as I just told your husband. You and Frodo are only able to come by virtue of your service, that you bore the Ring. It is not in my power to change, I fear." She looked miserable, but shook her head sadly. "I would do so if I could, to spare you both this sorrow."</p><p>"But... but even <i>Sam</i> could have come if he wanted," Bilbo said brokenly, fighting back tears. "Why is Sam welcome when Thorin is not?" He looked at the ship, then Thorin, then back again. "I... fine. I won't go. I will stay here." His lips quivered despite his emphatic voice and the dwarf felt as though the heart was being ripped from his chest.</p><p>"Bilbo..." Gandalf said softly. "You should not stay. There is nothing here for you but death. Sam was only able to come because he carried the Ring as well, though for a very short time. Only those who have borne it are permitted to sail with us, or so it was foretold." Bilbo was desolate at these words. Thorin embraced his husband, now sobbing into his shoulder.</p><p>"Tharkûn is right, <i>ghivashel</i>," the dwarf said. "You should go. I would be happier to know that you were..." He stopped speaking as he felt Bilbo suddenly stiffen and pull away. Turning to face Gandalf, the old hobbit grinned through his tears and Thorin saw a younger Bilbo peeking through the aged countenance.</p><p>"Carried the Ring? But Thorin also carried the Ring! Remember, Gandalf, I told you in my smial, he took it for a few days; he even wore it for a moment! He has carried it!" The old hobbit turned in delight to Galadriel, who looked utterly dumbfounded. "Thorin Oakenshield is as much a ring-bearer as Sam Gamgee, for certain! Now let him on this ship!" Gandalf shook his head and laughed out loud, as did Thorin in spite of himself. It took some time to answer all their questions, but eventually Thorin was permitted to escort Bilbo up the gangplank to take his seat and sank onto the bench beside him.</p><p>"I hope Mahal will understand why I arrive among the elves," Thorin muttered to Bilbo while making sure Tharkûn and Elrond could hear, and cherished the confounded looks he received. Bilbo ignored him beyond snuggling further into his husband's warmth, a gesture so familiar that the dwarf could not now imagine how he thought he would ever be able to give it up.</p><p>Later, after Cirdan had cast off the final ship and they made their way out of the harbor, someone standing on the dock would hear a hobbit's voice floating on the wind saying "Leaving you behind! Rubbish! The very idea!..." followed by dwarven laughter.</p>
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